Trapped In A Closet With Blaise Zabini
by slytherinrules85
Summary: Hermione is trapped with Blaise in a closet and much more afterwards. A series of cookies, all relating to each other.
1. Trapped In A Closet With Blaise Zabini

**A/N:** Hey, everyone! This is a new possible cookie series. I'm liking the idea of it, so I hope you like it, too.

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It was dark. It would be, though, since they were in a closet. It was also cold.

"Really, Granger? I hadn't noticed," Blaise Zabini commented sarcastically.

"What?" Hermione said. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't have spoken."

Hermione shivered. She had been locked in a closet with Blaise Zabini. One second she was walking down the hallway to meet Harry and Ron for Care of Magical Creatures when a hand shot out and pushed her into the closet. Shortly after Zabini had landed on her with an "Oomph!"

"So…" she said. He glanced at her. "Where were you headed when you, er, got stuck here?"

"Are you talking to me, Granger?"

"Well, I wouldn't normally."

"Understandable, since I wouldn't either," he replied. "Though, I wonder why?"

"Why what?" she asked him incredulously.

"Why you couldn't normally talk to me."

"Well…" Hermione bit her lip, considering. "I suppose it's because you're, well… you're a Slytherin."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he commented, crossing his long legs and pulling them up to his chest, tucking his cloak over them. When he glanced over at her, she was completely shocked. "You do think it was a bad thing, don't you?" He smirked.

"Um. Yes," she said. He shrugged.

"Most people do," he said. "But, then again, most people don't like eating raw garlic cloves."

She stared in horror. "You-"

He laughed. "No, I don't. But I have a friend who does. And it's not," he hurried on to say, "Draco."

"Er, I'm sure it isn't." Hermione squinted at her watch. "What time do you think it is?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "_Time_," he said, pointing his wand at the wall.

"Ooh, I'm missing Ancient Runes!" Hermione exclaimed. "When I find whoever pushed me into here, I'm going to _kill_ them!"

"Really? Tell me when you do, it'll be quite a show," Blaise commented, picking his fingernails.

She pushed him. "I'm serious! Today we were learning-"

"-the Runes from two thousand B.C. I know. I'm in your class, remember?" Blaise supplied.

"Oh. I'd forgotten. You always sit at the back of the class, don't you?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I do."

"Why?" she asked.

"Mostly because the class is full of Ravenclaws, and you," he said. "And I didn't think anyone would want to sit with me, since, of course, I'm a _Slytherin_."

"I didn't mean to insult you," Hermione said, exasperated. "It's just that everyone thinks…"

"Everyone thinks were sadistic, conniving nuts who'll do anything to save our skin?" Blaise offered. Hermione blinked at him. "Well, we are. Mostly. But we _can_ be normal, you realize."

"You're nuts," Hermione said, leaning up against the stone wall, wrapping her cloak around her tighter.

"Thank you," he replied. "That's sweet."

Hermione started to retort, but then realized that he had said something no one had ever said to her before. "Did you just say that I was sweet?"

"Uh- I-" He gulped. He hadn't meant to, but why pass up the opportunity? "Yes, yes I did."

She blinked at him. "No one's ever said that to me before. Not even once."

"I can't see why," Blaise said. "It's certainly true."

Hermione blushed. "Well, I- Um. Thank you, I guess."

"You 'guess'?" he asked. "What, no real thank you?"

"And what would that be- Mmph!" Before she could finish her sentence, Blaise leaned over and kissed her.

Light flooded into the small room. "Hermione! Are you okay? He didn't- Oh my God!" Ron exclaimed. "Get your hands off her, Zabini!"

Blaise stood up, offered Hermione a hand up, which was refused and dusted himself off. "Certainly, Weasley." He flicked a short glance at Hermione. "See you around, Granger." He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and walked away.

"Thanks Ron," Hermione said sarcastically, pushing past him and Harry. "That was really nice, ruining everything. Thanks a whole bunch."

Ten minutes later Ron ventured a question as they were entering the Great Hall, "Hermione, what's wrong?"

Hermione's eyes were fixed on Blaise, who was lounging in his seat next to Malfoy at the Slytherin table. He was laughing at something with his feet propped up on the table. His eyes met hers for a moment before his eyebrows went up in a condescending manner and he flashed her a pitying smile. "Everything, Ron," she said, sighing. "Everything."


	2. A Girls' Toilet

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything. This should be apparent by now, shouldn't it?

**A/N:** Second in the Trapped Series. I hope it's interesting. Enjoy!

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She kept watching him from across the Great Hall. Every day, when she sat down to have breakfast and sipped her tea she watched him. Even when Harry or Ron asked her something, she watched him.

But he didn't watch her. He made a point of not watching her, in fact. He wouldn't look at the Gryffindor table at all, and made jokes to Draco Malfoy, pointing in her direction and laughing.

She didn't know that he watched her during lunch. He watched her in an understated way. He didn't stare, as she did and he certainly didn't try to catch her eye. He participated in conversations and was a master at looking away right when she glanced at him. His friends told him to get over it and just go over and talk to her, but he refused, saying it was the principle of the thing. She had allowed her friends to insult and walk all over him without saying a word. He would wait for her. He was waiting for her. He had been waiting for her for years.

He remembered when she went to sit up on the three-legged stool to be sorted. He remembered every strand of that bushy hair. He remembered when she came into his carriage, where he, Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott were sitting, talking about their summers. He'd known Millicent for years, but had only met Theodore the previous year.

He had watched her since second year. Watched her bear Malfoy's insults when she should've yelled back at him. Watched her be frozen by the basilisk. He'd visited her then, in the hospital. He'd gone when Potter and Weasley weren't there and sat by her bedside, stroking her hand and making sure no one saw him.

But he'd watched her closer since fourth year when she showed up at the Yule Ball and looked more beautiful than she ever had. Not that he hadn't thought she was attractive before then, of course not. But that night her beauty came out for all. He'd known it was there all along, but to see Weasley's mouth drop open, as well as Malfoy's… it was truly a sight to behold. But his pleasure was taken away later that week when she'd yelled for the whole school to know that if Ron Weasley wanted to take her to a ball, then he'd better ask her before someone else did next time.

Since then he had hated Weasley. He didn't publicize it. He wasn't that type. That was Malfoy who showed how much he despised people. Blaise's way was to quietly derail them, to eventually take what they loved. In this case, taking what Weasley wanted included him getting Hermione. So the results were win-win.

His most desperate measure was shoving her into that closet. He'd never thought about it, just did it. It was instinct, and a chance to get her on her own, to talk to her without her ever-present bodyguards at her side.

He sighed, and scooped up more mushy peas. His eyes flickered to her and he saw her excuse herself, but without her bag. His conclusion was that she was going to the bathroom. Waiting until she was out of the Great Hall, he got up and silently followed her. He snuck into the bathroom once he was sure she was in a stall and went to the stall next to hers. When she went to wash her hands, he stood up and exited his stall. Seeing her shocked face when he came and stood beside her and nonchalantly washed his hands in the sink beside hers was priceless.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he remarked, keeping it cool.

Hermione couldn't form a good enough comeback, so, "This is a girls' toilet," slipped out.

Blaise glanced around, as if surprised. "Really, Granger? Is it? That would explain why when I normally come in here people run screaming from it and Snape gives me detention."

"I'm sure he just gives you something easy," Hermione said, squeezing more soap into her hands. "And I'm not surprised that he doesn't take points."

"Granger, he makes me reorganize his ingredients cabinet, which is _not_ easy, I shall assure you." He shook his hands over the sink and started to walk to the towel dispenser. "However, Granger-"

Hermione exploded. "For Heaven's _sake_! Please, if you're going to talk to me at all call me Hermione! 'Granger' is just too- too- too… formal," she finished lamely.

He walked back to her and placed his hands on her shoulders and his chin in the center of her head, looking into her mirror-reflected eyes. "Are you sure there's no… other reason?" he asked hopefully.

A smile bloomed on her face. "Well," she said shyly, "there might be…"

"Tease," he said, grinning at her, twirling her around. "Tease!"

She grabbed his collar and pulled him down to her face. "Better a tease," she said against his lips, "that not interested."

They kissed for several minutes until they heard someone coughing by the doorway. Breaking apart quickly, their heads whipped to look at whoever was standing there.

Ginny Weasley was leaning against the door, laughing silently, and grinning at the flushed faces of Hermione and Blaise. "Zabini," she said, "you do realize this is a girls' toilet, don't you?"

Keeping a straight face, Blaise replied, "What, you'd rather it be a boys?"


	3. The First Date

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** The long-awaited next bit (and possibly final) to the cookies series _Trapped In A Closet With Blaise Zabini_. Entitled 'The First Date', I hope you enjoy it; please review!

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"Did you hear?" Parvati Patil was saying as Hermione approached Gryffindor table the day after she'd talked to Blaise in the girls' toilet. "_Blaise Zabini_ and _Hermione Granger_ got together!" High-pitched squealing erupted from around Parvati. Hermione winced. It was several decibels too loud for her eardrums to bear. She moved down a few places. There. That was better.

Ron and Harry came over, frowning at Parvati and plopped down on either side of her, reaching for the potatoes at the same time. "Mate, get your own," Ron said calmly, for him, snatching the dish from under Harry's fingers.

Harry gave Hermione a long-suffering glance. "Poor, underfed me," he said, managing to make his bottom lip quiver. "No one cares."

"Boohoo, Potter," Ginny said, sitting on the opposite side of the table. She took the chicken he was reaching for. "If you want food, you've got to fight for it."

"Too true," Harry said glumly. He brightened up as he heard Dean mention Hogsmeade. "That's right; this weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. Ron, Hermione, are you going?" He looked at his friends.

Ron coughed indelicately and nodded towards Hermione. "_I_ can," he said. "But I dunno about _her_."

"Oh, suddenly I'm a '_her_'," Hermione asked in mock anger. Ron grinned sheepishly at her. "But Ron was right," she continued, turning pink, "I am going with Blaise this Saturday. It was supposed to be our first 'official' date," she added to Ginny, who grinned at her. "But if it was important, I can always cancel." From behind Hermione, Ginny gave Harry a glare that was not unlike her mother's famous Weasley Glare. Harry, who had been considering asking Hermione to stand Blaise up, reconsidered.

"I think," he said, eyes on Ginny, who was nodding slowly, as if to say, 'Yes, go on', "that you should go out with Blaise on Saturday, Hermione. After all, we can always go another weekend, as a group." His eyes went back and forth between Hermione and Ginny. Hermione noticed this and let out a little laugh. Ginny smiled and nodded at him. . "Yes, er, next weekend. Right." His eyes went back to Hermione and he plastered a brilliant smile on his face.

Hermione's lips twitched. "You're so noble, Harry. We can all see as you _take promptings from your girlfriend_!"

"My better half," he replied solemnly, taking the chicken from Ginny.

"He's learned," Ginny whispered to Hermione. "The first and only rule is: 'What Ginny says, goes'. He accepts it without protesting."

Hermione gave Ginny an amused smile. "My, you train them quickly."

"It's all in the reward system," Ginny said, grinning. "So, anyway, you and bathroom boy are going out this weekend?"

"Yeah, our first real date," Hermione said, trying not to sound like Parvati and Lavender and squeal over Blaise like he was the latest trend.

Ginny patted her arm. "Hermione, dear, you're with a girl. Feel free to squeal over your boyfriend. Even better, you're with a girl who is a _friend_, unlike Tweedledee and Tweedledum over there." She jerked her head towards Parvati and Lavender, who were chatting about something. "Anyway, what are you going to do on your date?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "He didn't tell me—just said it was a surprise. I'm sort of nervous, Ginny. I mean, I went out with Viktor and we kissed—but what if Blaise tries to? Kiss me, I mean."

Ginny shrugged. "Kiss him back, stupid."

"Just like that?" Hermione asked, fiddling with her hair, glancing across the hall to see Blaise sitting with Malfoy and a scrawny boy with dark hair—Nott, she thought. That was his name. Theodore Nott.

"Just like that," Ginny said firmly. The bell rang. "I've got to go, but we'll talk later, Hermione."

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Saturday dawned and Hermione was waiting in the Entrance Hall, waiting for Blaise by the marble staircase. For a millionth time she wondered if her outfit—blue jeans and a tunic-like shirt—was acceptable for a first date and if she had time to change when a hand tapped her shoulder and she turned to see Blaise stand there wear a pair of dark red robes, his longish hair wet and brushed back out of his eyes with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"You look lovely," he said, smiling at her. "Hermione," he added.

"Thanks, Blaise. So do, uhm, you," she said, a bit surprised at his choice of clothes.

He grinned. "What, Slytherins can't wear red? One of my favorite pairs of dress robes is maroon with a gold trim, actually."

"No, no- They can wear red," she said, smiling back. "It's just surprising to actually _see_ an admitted Slytherin wearing red."

"Oh, so now I'm an 'admitted Slytherin'?" Blaise asked teasingly. "But enough bickering. Shall we go?" He offered her his arm.

Hermione took it gladly. "Yes, please." As they walked out of the Hall, following everyone else who was walking to Hogsmeade, she asked, "What, exactly, are we doing?"

"You don't like surprises?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not after seven years of being friends with Harry and Ron, no," she admitted.

"Allow me to cure you of that fear," he said gallantly. "Be assured—this will be a most enjoyable day."

And it was. He took her to the bookstore and they poked around in the older tomes and when the dust became too much for Hermione's sensitive nose, he took her to a coffee shop that had just opened and treated her to some of the best tea and cake she had eaten in a long while.

After that, they just walked around for a while, talking, when the saw a friend of hers from Arithmancy. He left her talking and vanished for a few minutes, reappearing with a book she had exclaimed over—a text that she had heard of in her wide and varied reading—but never read herself and presented it to her with a grin on his face.

As they were walking back to the Castle, Hermione said suddenly, "Ginny calls you 'bathroom boy', you know."

"I'm not surprised," he said dryly, squeezing her hand, which he had been holding for ten minutes after he had asked, somewhat shyly, if she minded. "I doubt that I'll even escape the nickname. Supposing we have children—at their christening, she'll be saying, 'Well, who would've thought Hermione would have children with _bathroom boy_.'"

"Getting ahead of ourself, aren't we?" Hermione asked him, smiling.

"It's a chronic affliction," Blaise replied loftily. "You'll get used to it."

"I hope so," she murmured.

"And," he said, as they stepped onto the first step leading up to the Castle, "so do I." He kissed her gently on the lips for a moment before letting go and walking up the steps to the Castle and disappearing into the darkened doorway.

Hermione smiled to herself as she walked inside and turned towards the Gryffindor common room and said to herself, "And if he kisses like that all the time, I certainly will get used to him."


End file.
